Pages

Welcome

Welcome to the Blak Rayne Blog, where I post articles, author interviews, book and movie reviews, as well as anything else that sparks my interest!

BLAK RAYNE PUBLICATIONS LTD.

YELLOW SILK DREAMS

SUBSCRIBE TO BRN

Blak Rayne Newsletter Subscription

* indicates required

Email Address *

Name *

Sunday, December 11, 2011

COMING OUT OF HER SHELL

On Being Straight and Loving M/M Romance

I am an avowed heterosexual woman. I’ve
never questioned that. Never had those moments of confusion where I wondered if
I was a lesbian. I’ve always been content in my straightness, so you can
imagine my surprise when I read my first m/m erotic romance and found myself
not just a little breathless.

My original intent was not titillation, but
rather research. I wanted to be able to write my male character perspective
better and my guy was sick of me interrogating him on his every sensation
during sex. My only other resource, my grown nephew, has become prudish about
discussing this topic with me because I’m his Aunt even though we are only four
years apart. That left me with not enough information and a need for knowledge.
So, I downloaded Wanting by Piper
Vaughn and became instantly addicted.
Pretty soon I was devouring everything I could find in an endeavor both
to experience the total hotness of it all, but also to figure out why I
responded so viscerally to something so far removed from me … or so I thought.

What I came to realize as I indulged in my
newest addiction, was that this was not as far removed from me as I thought.
I’m no virgin. I’ve been penetrated. I’ve performed oral sex and been the
recipient of it. So, the only thing differing between me and the lead character
was the specific equipment and the lack of a prostate, but that is where
suspended disbelief fills in the gaps. When I’m reading about a man being
penetrated, the sensations of stretching and burning, thickness and being full
are all ones I’ve experienced which means I can fundamentally relate both
intellectually and viscerally. I find myself excited by the end of an m/m story more often than not. In the end, I think this fundamental parallel is why so many
women are gravitating to m/m erotica and romance … because they can relate
viscerally to the experiences being described.

He was there. Susan could feel his eyes on
her, even if she couldn't see his face. His balcony was in shadows, but she
knew he was watching her. The very thought that he watched her in such an
intimate, vulnerable moment was both thrilling and shameful. She couldn't
believe she was doing this. Again. She should stop. Just get up go back inside
the house and get back to her normal and predictable life. She was crazy to
play this game. She knew nothing about him other than the easy going image he
projected.

Sure, he was beautiful to her. Tall and
lean with a natural athletic build. The kind of body that said he stayed active
rather than pumping iron. His slightly shaggy, black hair gave him a lazy,
relaxed appearance that belied the intelligence he sometimes let slip through
his "don't take me too seriously" exterior. If she had to catalog his
features, she'd say that individually they were fairly ordinary. He had a broad
chin, straight nose and perpetual five o'clock shadow. His eyes were the
exception. They were otherworldly. Emerald green, they had captured her the
minute she'd seen him at the neighborhood block party the first week she'd
moved to Chester Park. The sum of
him took her breath away. He had a casual grace when he moved that said,
"I'm okay with who I am, so fuck off if you don't agree."

She hadn't spoken to him that day. Hadn't
said anything more to him than "Hi" and "How are you?"
since she'd moved in three months ago, despite living next door to him. She
thought of him though. In fact, she was beginning to fear she was obsessed with
him.

She'd learned his name from one of the
neighbors ... Eric Tanner. Such a simple name, it rolled off the tongue
beautifully. She savored its syllables, sucked them into her mouth like the
cherry off the top of a sundae. She loved his name; she longed to use it
intimately. To whisper it in his ear as she nibbled on the lobe. To scream it
as she came around his cock and milked his climax from him.

A slight breeze stirred the air, feathering
across her exposed breasts. She imagined the whisper kiss was his lips and was
lost to the fantasy. Her nipples tightened painfully and moisture flooded her
core.

She hadn't meant for him to see. This game
they played hadn't been planned. It had been totally accidental. Truly. But,
playing with Eric was seductive. Like dark chocolate, it made her ravenous and
one bite was not enough. It was a heady mixture of power and vulnerability that
she never wanted to end even though she knew she should stop. She would stop. She wouldn't do it again.
She couldn't do it again. Not if she wanted to respect herself.

It had started so simply. She had decided
that she needed more personal time and changed her schedule at work.
Truthfully, she was bored out of her skull. She'd been a corporate shepherd
watching diligently over her human sheep for over 15 years and she hated it
more everyday.

She was 35-years old and her life was so
routine it put even her to sleep. All she did was work. QuestCom ran like a
well-oiled machine. Never let it be said she didn't do her job. She was
efficient, organized and effective, but about as fun as a tax auditor. She had
no real friends, she'd never been married or in a truly serious relationship
and had no children, though it could be argued that her Pug, Roxy, was her
baby. She simply didn't know how to relax and be herself with people. Men
especially. Once "cold fish" had become a recurring theme in the bedroom,
she'd sworn off men. What was the point? She couldn't relax enough to try some
of the things they wanted her to do and she got tired of the complaints.

It wasn't that she blamed them. Even she
got tired of the missionary position. Nor did she think it would be very fun to
screw a woman who could barely tolerate having sex with the lights on. She was
repressed and she knew it, but so far there hadn't been anyone worth making the
effort for. So, to balance out her failure in the dynamic woman department,
she'd made a point of being the best employee she could be. Her career had
skyrocketed and she was the youngest Chief Operating Officer in her company's
history. She was good at her job, but she hated it. She excelled in her role,
but she was bored and it showed.

When she'd taken to just staring out the
window of her office for hours at a time, she decided she needed a change.
Hell, she needed a life. So, she had rearranged her schedule to take every
Thursday afternoon off. Her plan was to take up a hobby. She just hadn't
expected it to be masturbating for her sexy neighbor.

She hadn't known he was there that first
time. She had simply gone out for a swim. After doing enough laps to leave her
breathless, she'd put on her sunglasses and hat and stretched out on her
favorite lounge chair to let the sun dry her off.

She'd lain there trying to remember the
last time she'd had sex (two years) and fantasizing about Eric. Wondering if he
was involved with anyone. Imagining him naked and plunging into her. Without
any conscious thought, she'd begun to stroke herself - outside her bikini
bottoms because she never touched herself directly - until she brought herself
to orgasm on the sheer fantasy of Eric.

As she'd struggled to catch her breath, a
sound like a chair being pushed back drifted to her from the direction of his
balcony. She opened her eyes in time to see the object of her fantasy stand up
and turn to go inside.

She'd been shocked. Mortified. Humiliated.
She'd stumbled to her feet and run inside as fast as she could. After locking
the door, she'd slid down the wall and sat there on the cold marble tile with
her arms wrapped around her knees rocking as she tried to calm the nausea
roiling in her belly.

He'd seen her masturbate. Watched her at
her most vulnerable moment. She'd been imagining herself with him and he'd
watched as she pleasured herself. To her utter shock, as the idea sank in,
rather than puke up her lunch, her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched.

The reality slammed into her. He'd watched
her! Eric had seen her masturbate.

The thought was both electric and erotic.
The idea of his eyes on her aroused her more than she thought possible. She
broke out in goose bumps and her pussy throbbed. She refused to touch herself
again though. She wanted to savor the memory of coming with his eyes on her.

And so it began. Over the weeks, she'd
become more and more brazen. Touching herself in ways she'd never had the
courage to before. Rather than feeling embarrassed by Eric's presence, she was
emboldened. She didn't even bother with a bathing suit now.

One evening, after making sure his car was
gone, she'd gone so far as to arrange the lounge chair so that the angle and
distance would be such that, even though he'd have a good view, he'd have to
pay close attention if he really wanted to see her.

She performed for him every Thursday afternoon
at two o'clock without fail. Today was different though, today was her last
performance. She'd promised herself she would stop this madness. She was
becoming consumed by the fantasy of him and she couldn't take it anymore.

It was a lie and she felt like a cheat. She
wasn't really this sexy, erotic woman. It was a game she was playing and it had
to stop. So, today was her finale and she planned to make it good for him.

5 comments:

Hi, Gillian!Loved the post. You raise an interesting point as to WHY m/m fantasies have become so popular among women. Perhaps they've always been there, but it just took a changing of the cultural guard to make it more "permissible" to indulge them. The idea of women coupled with women is one of man's oldest fantasies; why shouldn't men coupled with men be a woman's? My compliments to you and Blak Rayne! :)

Hi JS! Thanks for stopping by. I see what you're saying. I think what we are beginning to overcome as a society is the idea that homosexuality equates to a lack of masculinity. So many of the m/m stories being written feature men's men. Why shouldn't women find that hot? Men don't want to see masculinized women together, they want feminine women together, so I think as our perspective on homosexuality alters its definitely becoming more permissible as a woman's fantasy.

Very interesting points by you both. I think society is evolving, finding a way to accept and, I also believe, that is why we're seeing m/m as well as other forms of erotic literature more popular than ever. Contrary to what people say, I don't think m/m is a fad. I think it's here to stay!Thanks for stopping by J.S. and thanks for the great article and excerpt Gillian!

JOIN THE NAUGHTY LIST!!

BEDTIME

TATTOOS

KISS ME AGAIN

LOVERS

KISSING

KISS ME

BLUE

ABOUT ME

Blak Rayne is a best selling author of gay romance. She loves to write and believes it's one of the greatest forms of self-expression. What better way to see inside the human soul? Blak resides in Canada, and yes, she is a woman, wife and mother. She’s been writing and drawing since elementary school, and she loves anything that involves the arts. As for family, her daughter is her toughest critic and greatest support!

I post a variety of content such as articles linked to my blog. I will also share images, jokes, or information; whatever inspires me. 99.99 percent of the content is intended for adult viewing. Enough said!